I breathed in the sweet smell of flowers and grass. A cool breeze swept through my hair. It was a perfect day to go to the park. My paintbrush slid across the canvas smoothly. I was a self employed artist with not so ambitious dreams, low maintenance, and an open mind in the big city of Gotham.
"Wow!" a little girl murmured in amazement as she passed by, unlatching herself from her mother's hand. I smiled over the canvas at her. "How do you get to painting that well?" she asked, sitting next to me. Her mother stuffed her hands in her pockets and admired the painting.
"It all starts with good drawing. If you practice as much as possible and a little bit more, you can accomplish a lot." I replied. She nodded and followed after her mother down the paved walkway. I set my brush in the tin can of water and set my painting aside to dry. Another breeze passed by, blowing leaves across the ground. I knelt down and picked up one of the vibrant orange leafs. I placed the leaf in the newest page of my journal next to polaroid of the scene I'd been painting. This was a sort of habit or tradition. For all my paintings I would put something from its location in the journal next to a picture.
I sighed and put my things away, shouldering my backpack and carrying the painting with care. Though the park was a nice place to paint, I didn't like staying there alone for too long, it made me anxious. You see, Gotham isn't the safest city in the world. Of course, it can't be worse than Detroit- usually. Some of the crazies who run around Gotham can be unbelievable.
I walked quickly up the stairs of the apartment building, entering my apartment and locking the door. I was lucky enough to get a place in one of the nicer parts of the city, but you know, we still get the usual murders or turf wars every now and then.
Sighing, I placed my painting on the empty stand and plopped on the small sofa. Maybe I could spend the rest of my life inside, ordering pizza and selling my paintings online. I have an elliptical, so there really was no need to go outside... Other than the fact that I was required to be at showings of my art and Gotham, no matter how dangerous, has amazing and inspirational sights. I mumbled incoherently and looked at my watch... which was not there.
I stepped briskly around the corner, nervously eyeing the dark alleyways. I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched and was regretting going back to the park. What happened was that I had forgotten my watch on the bench. Luckily, no one had picked it up. You know, it would've been easier just to buy another watch! The sound of a second set of footsteps echoed behind me. I clenched my hands inside of my pockets. Damn, the one time I don't bring my pepper spray. Someone pulled me to the side into one of the alleys. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but the assailant covered it with their hand. They dragged me further into the alley. I thrashed around, trying to kick at my attacker. This couldn't be happening! I bit down on the hand, earning a growl from its' owner.
"Let go of me!" I screeched. I watched with teary eyes as the hand returned to my mouth and bystanders took no notice to my dilemma. 'Why won't anyone help me?' I thought, tears running down my cheeks.